


The Spook's Adventure

by JaydenTheWeirdest



Category: AU - Fandom, The Wardstone Chronicles - Joseph Delaney, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Also that's too overpowered, Crossover, Eventual Smut, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, No powers for you!, Old Nick ain't good, Old Nick is an ass, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader and Spook are NOT friends, Reader fights what goes bump at night, Reader is transgender, Sans Is A Dick, Sans is demi, Set in the good ol' times, Smell any burnin' witches friend?, Soul Bond, Too confusing, Toriel is the best moma, at first, bear with me here, maybe not, soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaydenTheWeirdest/pseuds/JaydenTheWeirdest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fiend has been set free into our mortal world by the hands of the three Pendle witch clans,<br/>The Malkins, The Deanes and The Mouldheels.<br/>There have been reports of otherwordly monsters appearing from beneath a mountain in Ireland.<br/>Alice has gone missing.<br/>And a skeleton hates you.<br/>All of that in a day's work?<br/>More like "Kill me now,"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spook's Request

The rain was cascading down in buckets, making tapping noises on your window, the rain always gave you a sense of calming that no other thing did.

It reminded you of how warm it is inside your little shack, how the fire's warm embers blazed in the fireplace, how the door is shut, blocking out the wind and rain (and any unlikely visitors) and you can enjoy some peace in your cushioned reading chair, enjoying a read at some of the most interesting books, as seldom as they may be.

Nimble fingers traced the coarse pages of the new book, yet to be read, yet to be enjoyed.

It was a romance, a forbidden love between an angel and a demon, obviously a fantasy.

You chuckled slightly, what was the point of reading fantasy when you were already in a world of supernatural? If witches and Old Nick exist then surely there are demons and angles along with them.

A flash of lighting passed through the sky, illuminating the room for a brief period of time, before succumbing back to the darkness of the High Heavens.

The air smelled strongly of wood and flames, with a hint of the fresh bread that you have baked recently, it was the best smell in the world, the smell of home.

It was always there, ready to embrace you without mercy and truly welcome you back to your house, your home.

Without warning, came three sturdy knocks on your large, heavy wooden door. They sounded more like bangs, like the thunder that was roaring without mercy tonight, if they hadn't sounded so quick and urgent, you would've probably mistaken them for that.

You looked at your book pleadingly, you didn't want any visitors and you prayed to God (if any exists) that they would get fed up and walk away.

Alas, fate was a cruel mistress, because the bangs continued, sounding even more helpless and needy. Deciding to spare the late visitors from a rainy fate, you got up and slowly opened the door with a creak and revealed two, quiet tall figures, one being significantly larger than than the other.

Hoods were covering their faces and staffs were in their hands. They were both left-handed, you noted, a rare thing to occur and if it did, it meant trouble with the church for the whole family.

Usually if you were left handed everyone assume it brings bad luck and is a devil's mark, telling you to "fight it before it's too late".

You cracked the door open wider with your right hand and placed your left on your hip.

 

"May I ask, what do you need at this time of night?"

 

Your voice was rough, harsh, just how you wanted it to be, very 'un-lady-like' which was exactly what you were going for.

 

"_______! We need your help!"

 

Rang out a younger voice, maybe in the early teens, and from what you could see under that pesky hood, a lad. The taller figure proceeded to whack him on the head slightly before exclaiming in a hushed voice,

 

"Quiet down there lad! People are sleeping! No need to draw attention."

 

They pulled down their hoods to reveal your two friends, Mr.Gregory (Honestly you prefer to call him Old Gregory, a habit you picked up from Alice, damn her), the local Spook and current teacher to Tom Ward, who was standing beside him, his green eyes shining at you. You were never on good terms with the Spook but when push comes to shove, you two fit together like puzzle pieces, when he lacks the tactics, you fill in, but when you lack reasoning, he stops you.

 

"Come on in, you guys must be freezin' with the cold, I'll make some tea."

 

The pair nodded silently and entered your small home, taking off their boots as they remembered your previous rage when they walked in with boots on, and the rain didn't make it any better either. You were bustling in the kitchen, but when you returned and saw that their boots were at the 'shoe spot', you smiled.

Inviting them over to the table with a wave of your hand and a quiet "Come on, sit,", they complied and sat down.

Something was wrong, Tom was staring at his cup of tea with a worry-filled gaze and the Spook wasn't saying any passive-aggressive comments about the state of your living area. They both just sat there.

Eventually, Old Gregory broke the silence with a cough and spoke, his voice coarse and tired.

 

"Alice has gone to Ireland, said she'll get some books off somebody she knew, said they'll be useful for my library. I let her go, she said that she'll write letters and that she'll be back in about 2 to 3 weeks, haven't seen her since."

"And you want me to go look for her,-"

It was a statement, not a question, you knew what he wanted.

"-I don't know where she could be, I haven't been in Ireland in a long time,"

"Lad, you know her better than anyone, you knew her before we met her-"

"-And that makes me a better candidate then Tom? Who she trusts just as much as me, and is closer to her than I was when I spent as much time with her as he did,"

"Still, you know her best, you were there when she was training and when she befriended Tom, you know where she'd go and you know her secrets-"

His voice was rising in annoyance and you interrupted, much to the displeasure of Old Gregory.

"-And that is exactly why you don't trust me -"

"-Look lad! It's a good thing for Spooks to not trust people-"

"-Well too bad! You'll have to learn to trust someone other than Tom-"

"-I'm trying ok?!-"

"-Well it doesn't look like it!-"

"-It isn't as easy as it looks to trust a little witch like her-"

"-Well I did it, somehow you can do it too, grampa!"

 

 

Tom's emerald orbs darted around in panic, this was not good. Their voices were getting progressively louder by the second, _______ slammed his hands onto the table, the Spook stood up. Their mindless quarrel was starting to get out of hand.

Tom did the only thing he could think of right now.

He stood up and shouted, alarming both of the adults in the process.

"Shut up! Alice's life may be in danger! And what are you two doing?! You two are arguing like children!"

Both adults looked at him with shock, never had they seen him scream with such anger at something. Or someone.

 

 

You leaned down and took Tom's arm, his sleeve riding upwards, revealing the scratches that Alice gave him at his farm, marking him as 'hers'. 

Tom flinched when you touched his arm but that fear was replaced by curiosity when you leaned down and pointed out the markings to him,

 

"See these? These are her marks, they won't disappear until she's dead, you can always check on them and you'll always know if she's alive, now-"

 

You turned towards Old Gregory, who had a hand on his face, inhaling deep, slow breaths, trying to calm down.

 

"-How long has she been gone?"

The old man paused,

"2 months,"

"Could I borrow one of your silver chains? I really wouldn't like to be attacked by witches on the way there and be completely defenceless, and don't worry about the training, me and Tom practiced some,"

"A'ight, I'll lend you one for a while, what about a staff?"

"You sure?"

"Before I change my mind lad,"

"Anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Well, there have been reports of 'otherwordly creatures' in the midlands, creatures such as an oversized talking cat, a talking box made of metal and some other things too, I don't want you to do anything with them, just be careful lad, we don't know about them, that's what makes them even more dangerous, if you want, you can run a log on any you encounter, sound good?"

"Ok, so monsters we don't know nothin' about and finding Alice? That's it?"

"Yeah,"

"I'll go tomorrow morning after I finish up some things with the townsfolk, question, why can't you and Tom come with?"

"We don't really know anything about Ireland, plus we got the Fiend on our tails, wouldn't be wise to go to somewhere we don't know, easier for him to sneak up on us,"

"Fair enough, do you want to stay the night? I don't think the storm is quieting down anytime soon,"

As much as you hate that old man, making him go back all the way to Chipenden from Anglezarke is too cruel of a punishment. Must've taken a while for them to come here, that desperate huh?

It's not that you didn't like Alice, as the old man said, you two are inseparable, and have been inseparable from the start of her training, despite the 4 year age difference.

It's just that, despite her age, she is a very smart girl, and she'd never get into trouble if it isn't necessary. It seemed sort of silly to you that they would want you to look for her.

 

 

> 'Alice, I really hope you didn't make any wrong decisions there.'

 

 


	2. Spook's Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stay safe lad,"
> 
> "I will,"
> 
> Because I am DETERMINED.

The sunlight was blaring through the open curtains, blinding you momentarily. You cursed yourself for forgetting to close them yesterday, if you did, maybe you could sleep in a few extra hours. But there was a gut-wrenching feeling in your stomach, what were you forgetting? Oh, Alice. You have to cancel the orders from the butcher and the others.

You slowly sat up and stood. A weight on your chest suddenly reminded you.

You aren't wearing the binding cloth.

Meaning, if someone were to come in, they'd know.

"Shit,"

Muttering curses you briskly swept through the room and surveyed every inch nook and cranny. Where could it be? You checked under your shirt, which was messily tossed aside in a crumpled heap onto the floor. Beneath it, lay the binding cloth you were looking for. God you have gone through so much trouble to get it (Thank goodness the old lady living on the edge of Chipenden understood your problem and gave you it,) and you definitely do not want to lose it.

You put it on quickly, successfullly binding your chest and erasing any thought that someone might have, from the outside, that you were a "girl".

It wasn't your fault society labels people into two genders. You felt this way and there was no problem with it, at least that's what you told yourself. There was a big problem, and that was society. Society fears the unknown and since you were part of that "unknown" you'd be feared and if worse, you'll be tried by the new Quisitor, and he might be just as merciful as the last one, maybe he'll drown you instead of burning you on a stake, all while roaring about your evil necromancy.

You looked around your room, small and cozy, like the rest of your house. Your messy, unorganized bed in the corner, a wooden, working table beside it, the wax candle melted and extinguished, with the window in front. Small, yes, but it definitely feels like home.

You threw on some comfortable, baggy trousers and a coat, before going downstairs to see Old Gregory giving an earful to Tom for not learning the properties of ghouls, you overhear him mixing up the fact that iron and silver have no effect on them while gold does, poor lad. You shook your head before coming over to Old Gregory and tapping his shoulder a couple of times.

"Whadaya want?"

"Watch the house while I'm gone,"

"Not even the magic word, eh lad?"

You groaned slightly, you had no time for this.

"Please,"

"I swear, you're an adult but you act like a child,"

"Yeah, yeah, grampa. At least I don't make someone carry my bags around, poor Tom,"

"Don't get sassy with me boy, it will dig you an early grave,"

"See you there, old man,"

You patted Tom on the head, ruffling his brown hair in the process, a muffled 'Hey!' escaping him. He playfully glared at you with his green eyes. And with that you pulled on your boots and ran out the door , a wide grin pulling the corners of your mouth.

Despite the harsh words you tell him, he's a nice fellow, you'd definitely miss him if he were to go.

You walked down the cobblestone path, your boots making 'Plap's and 'Clack's along the way. You wonder how long it has been since you've seen Alice.

Plap.

A puddle made your boots damp.

Considering the last time you seen her was when she met Tom at his 'safe haven' (and they also kissed, did they think they weren't noticeable, you remember shaking your head at them before Old Gregory did the same, "Young love, the lad doesn't know what he's going into," he said) then you haven't seen her in about three months now.

Clack.

A peeble was kicked out of the way.

The village houses were in sight now, usually it's a good thing that you live a little while away from the town but for times like these? Incredibly inconvenient. Who wouldn't want to sleep in on a lovely Sunday morning. First stop.

The Butcher, you two weren't exactly friends so conversations tended to be very awkward, the quicker this one is over with the better.

Arriving at your destination, you greeted the middle-aged man, slightly rounded face, brown hair and a receding hairline, most likely going bald. His face had wrinkles, most likely from age and from worry, and his body language screamed "uncomfortable" when he saw you.

"'Morning mate,"

"G'morning Mister _______, u-umm, a-about your order-"

"-Don't worry about it, I'm going to be leaving town for the while so the order will be cancelled until I come back,"

"O-oh ok, how's the house?"

"Didn't burn down yet, here mate, a coin for your troubles,"

You gave him a small amount of money to pay for the order of meat for the next week, he greedily snatched it up and went to put it in his 'money-box'.

Next stop, the bakery, then the fruit and vegetables market. You stopped by and had a lovely conversation with the ladies that worked in both stores, sisters, identical in fact, Laura and Jane were their names. Both have blonde hair, and stunning green eyes, it's honestly a surprise some old hag didn't get jealous of them and claimed them both as witches.

By now the sun had started to set, friendly conversation turning into hours of restless talking.

It was as if you knew eachother before.

Now that the job's done, it's time to go back to the house. You said farewell to the ladies, who in turn, giggled and waved, wishing you luck on "whatever journey you have planned~" and started to walk back to home.

Home.

That's such a foreign concept to someone who's on the run most of their life.

From memories, from the past, from people from the past that caused those memories.

There never was a "home" for you, but, just this once, you suppose, in this life, you'd be willing to call this place your home.

You opened the heavy wooden door to see Old Gregory still going on about the importance of meat (especially human flesh, but you rather not think about that, ordinary meat will do) in a ghouls diet, and what happens if you put one in a pit and forget to feed it every week, while Tom passed out on your armchair, his notebook and pen in hand. Old Gregory finally noticed that his apprentice had fallen asleep when he got distracted by you slamming the door shut.

Instead of waking him up and giving him another earful he sighed and shook his head, fingers resting on the bridge of his nose.

"What am I going to do with that lad,"

"Well, I suppose a good start would be to let him sleep, poor fella looks exhausted,"

"I suppose you're right,"

You didn't take off your boots, you didn't even enter the living room, because you noticed a sack, with what you guessed was supplies for your journey. You checked it and it contained a silver chain, a loaf of bread and a big piece of cheese.

"You're gonna need more food than we normally do on these sort of journeys, ya'ain't a spook boy, you don't know how to go on for weeks on a lump of crumbled cheese, I thought I'd pack some extra food for ya,"

He......packed this for you?

This is an oddly sweet gesture from him. Either way, you appreciated it.

"Thanks.....Don't worry about me, I'll be back before you know it-" there was a small pause, "- old man,"

You took off your coat and put on the cloak you had, a gift from Alice on your 18th birthday, she had spent time and money into this and you weren't planning to let it go to waste, plus, the quality of it is just outstanding. She said she had casted a spell on it to deflect rain, something witches often do to prevent themselves from getting soaked, and despite you being strictly against her using dark magic, you appreciated the small gesture and risk she took to make this gift 'perfect'.

You switched your normal boots for well-made leather ones, this journey will probably require a lot of walking and you rather they not get soaked on the immedeate touch of water. Something was missing-

"Here lad, you're forgetting this,"

The Spook passed you a staff he must have made today, it smelt like fresh wood, rowan wood, the wood most effective against witches.

It was a nice burgundy in colour and had a switch blade on top.

"Even, if you're not a spook, I've seen you fight, witches shouldn't be a problem to you, 'cause I've seen you train for months against Tom and Alice, you're quick on your feet and you are quick to use things to your advantage, the ground may be slippery, you'll slip your opponent up, there's a branch, you'll trip 'em, you're tough, I'll give you that, but you need to widen your brain to the possibility that your opponent will use many different moves. Honestly, you deserve this staff, if you were a seventh son of a seventh son, I'd take you up as an apprentice,"

Hearing these words come out of his mouth made you not want to fail, because if you would, you feel like you would disappoint him and his belief in you would be all for naught.

"Thanks, I won't come back without Alice,"

His eyes softened some, before he waved you off, telling you to go, but not before giving you a short hug and a pat on the back,

"Stay safe kid,"

"I will,"

Because I am DETERMINED.


	3. Spook's Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a deal.

You haven't walked 2 miles when it started to rain, a soft drizzle more like it.

It wasn't an obstacle as much as it was annoying, what can you say, you hate being cold and wet.

You assumed the drizzle would last for about an hour or two, it should be over when you reached one of the rural towns up North.

Oh how wrong you were.

The drizzle turned into rain, not lashing, but very annoying rain. If it lashed out at sea you swear you would curse all of the existing 'Gods' for this. You did not need a storm out at sea, who knows what might happen.

And it rained, for a long time. A couple of days, at most. Your legs could barely work with the muddy ground at the second day so you payed someone with a cart do drop you off at one of the towns up North at the coast, where it would take the shortest to get to Ireland on a boat.

You had encountered him by chance or by luck, he had been traveling around the County, and outside of it too, looking to sell some voodoo goods.

It's funny really, how people detest and fear the Spook, witches and creatures of that sort, but are willing to spend their money on some false goods, to learn 'magic tricks' and to prove themselves 'powerful over the dark', it was as if they pretended that the fake merchandise was real to make themselves feel more powerful over their fears, their insecurities and their own personal 'dark'.

The fake but kind enough seller let you go about 4 miles away from one of the towns, telling you to walk down one of the muddy roads and you won't be disappointed.

By then, your cheese already had a few bites out of it, you followed Old Gregory's advice and ate very slowly. The ground had turned soggy and muddy, emitting a squelch everytime it was stepped on, occasionally a few rocks would meet your foot and they would just sink farther into the muddy earth.

The leaves that were once crinkled and dry were now sticky and slippery. The staff was the only thing that saved you from falling down.

It wasn't a pleasant experience.

When you had finally reached the town on the coast, your cloak was soaking despite the water-repelling spell, you assumed it only helps so much, what would a small little spell do against a storm? It certainly will not keep you dry. It may have helped at the start, but now? It may be doing it's absolute best but this is your inner angry self speaking and you think that it's not doing anything at all.

Your boots turned muddy and hands were white with cold and pressure from gripping the staff.

Thank goodness the sack was underneath the cloak, at least the loaf of bread wouldn't turn to mush.

You marched grumpily to the town, although your face remained passive, your boots squelching in the mud and your cloak flicking raindrops in your face from the wind. The muddy ground soon switched to cobbles, and your squelching changed to patting.

You were so glad to be out of the mud, although fun, it's incredibly messy.

You remember as a kid, loving the mud, it made the pigtails you wore seem like nothing, it made the little dress you had to bear dirty and muddy, and you loved it. You loved defying your parents at the time, who wouldn't, when their parents insist that they love you and care about you but don't support your decision whatsoever.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself from the memories, the past is the past, nothing more, nothing less.

The quicker you forget about what happened the better, there's nothing you want less than to burst into an emotional mess while it rains, how cliche.

Maybe someone will see you too, and ask what's wrong and is everything alright, and you'll say that everything's just dandy.

No, that's not going to happen, you're strong, strong enough not to cry and whine about the past.

You spot a fisherman, packing up his equipment into the shed near him, his boat was already covered but it was worth a shot, plus you didn't feel like walking another few miles to the next town. The seller demanded a pretty coin, you were sure you had enough for a few more things, but not much. You hoped that the fisherman was kind enough to get you there for what you had.

"G'afternoon, friend,"

"G'noon yerself, I haven't seen ya eround these parts before, ya have some unfinished business 'ere?"

Oh great, you can hear the Irish accent, you can stop trying to conceal yours for now, it's a pity Irishmen aren't welcome here. It must be a trouble for the fellow to hide it all of the time. Must've been too tired to care at this point.

"Y'see ma'e*, I need to get right 'here*, to the Emeral' Isle-" You pointed to the direction of the sea, "- I 'ave some business with my old frien' 'here, will ya be willing to help a fellow Irishman out?"

The fisherman stroked his beard, considering it before dropping his hand and folding them on top of his chest, the rain glistening in droplets on his beard.

"Tell ya what, I'll take ya there, ya have a nice Irish accent, I can tell ya ain't fake, trying to mock me. 'Ow* aboot* a deal, I take ya dere* and ya pay me, hmm, how aboot 10 coins? I'm willin' to help ya out, ya seem like nice 'ompany*, I'll take ya dere for the 'ompany an' 10 coins, deal?"

For anyone else joining the conversation, the words would be too fast and too hard to follow. But for you, it was perfect, not slow and steady but fast and upbeat, like 'home' truly felt.

"Deal, ma'e, thanks a lot, ye'r helping me out more than ya can imagine,"

"No worries a' all*,"

You stooped your shoulder down so your sack would be visible and reached in, fishing out 10 coins. You passed them to your new friend, and shook hands, his big burly hand covering your small one.

It's a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma'e = Mate (T is silent)  
> 'Here = There (T is silent)  
> 'Ow = How (H is barely heard)  
> Aboot = About  
> Dere = There (Th makes a hard sound)  
> 'Ompany = Company (C is silent)  
> All = `all (A is deeper)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: http://mountsansjustgotbigger.tumblr.com/  
> Asks are open!  
> Undertale doesn't belong to me.  
> The Wardstone Chronicles don't belong to me either!  
> Kudos to the creators, marvelous work!~  
> Wardstone AU!Undertale / WardTale belongs to me


End file.
